Mad World
by Katerina Riley
Summary: "Oh. My. Gods! This is it! Lolloc squealed, clapping his (Arthur's) hands. "Emrys is revealing himself! And I'm witnessing it! This is the best day of my life!" future!Merlin, Arthur POV, reveal!fic, Merthur BROTP or PRE-SLASH, either way.
1. Chapter 1

**Takes place between Season 4 and 5. Merlin is 24, Arthur 25 – remember there was a ****three year gap**** between those two seasons!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except this particular fusion idea**

**Should update every week!**

*** Edwendu = [to] reverse **

****Edhwierft cýþþ = [to] return home**

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><p><em><strong>Mad World<strong>_

"We're trapped, Arthur," Merlin huffed.

Arthur surveyed the area, scanning for an escape, but Merlin was right; that damned sorcerer had _herded _them, like they were the rabbits and he was the hunting dog, into a stone maze. A stone maze that hadn't been there before. Surely, this was just another one of the sorcerer's conjuring tricks.

"Dammit!" Arthur cursed. He glanced at the man being half carried in his arms and cursed again. "What the hell were you thinking?" Arthur demanded.

"I was," Merlin took a deep breath, his pale face turning a slight shade of green. "I was thinking I was saving your princely ass, you prat."

Arthur adjusted his grip on Merlin, who gasped from the jarring pain. "Well, _don't _next time," he gritted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _your highness_," Merlin bit out. "Next time, I'll just let the _poisoned arrow_ hit your fat head!"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Across from them, standing in one of the many crossroads of the accursed stone maze, stood the sorcerer. He was a short fellow with stringy brown hair and the most infuriating little smirk on his face.

This was the bugger that had completely ruined Arthur's morning. Granted, it had already been bad enough, which was why he had dragged Merlin out to the woods for an impromptu hunting trip, but it was this man, this _sorcerer_, who turned Arthur's simple bad morning into a horrendously _ruined_ day.

Merlin had been leaning against a tree, being more silent than he'd ever been in all the years Arthur's known him, while Arthur himself had poised his bow, ready to let the arrow fly into the unsuspecting deer. Already, he had caught three rabbits, four squirrels, and a fox. His bad morning had turned into a fading nightmare, one he could hardly remember. It was easy for Arthur to relax when he was surrounded by nature and sunlight and Merlin. (Though if anyone ever found out about that, especially Merlin, they'd immediately be thrown in the dungeons and forgotten.) It had been so perfect, so quiet…

Then Merlin had been shouting and pushing Arthur into the dirt. Before Arthur could yell at his idiot manservant, he'd seen the arrow protruding out of Merlin's side, just under where his lungs would be located. When another arrow landed, inches away from Arthur's foot, the prince had sprung into action. The horses had been startled off as more and more arrows began raining down, each one missing their intended targets by inches, so Arthur had slung Merlin's arm around his neck, wrapped his own arm around Merlin's waist, careful of the arrow, and took off running.

Which only made them end up here, trapped between three stone walls with a sorcerer blocking the only entrance, even quicker.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting," the sorcerer repeated, that damned grin still on his face. "I have a schedule to keep."

"And what would that be?" Arthur asked flippantly. "Take over Camelot? Kill the king?" It was Arthur's turn to smirk. "It's been attempted. Many, many times. Each sorcerer has failed, and you are no different."

The sorcerer tutted. "Ah, how you doubt me. Do you know me, boy?"

Arthur bristled. _Boy_? He was no boy. Arthur was the Crown Prince of Camelot, not some mere _boy_.

"Do you know _me_, _boy_?" he spat out. Raising his sword, Arthur said, "You are like all the others, a sorcerer with an ego problem. You will never bring Camelot down, and each time you pathetic creatures attack us, we just grow stronger."

The sorcerer clenched his fists. "I am Lolloc," he informed, his voice tight with anger. "And I will be the one sorcerer to succeed."

"What makes you think that," Merlin called out weakly.

When Arthur glanced at him, he took in the sweat dotting Merlin's brow and the glaze of his eyes. If Arthur checked, he wouldn't be surprised to discover a fever warming Merlin's forehead.

Lolloc laughed. It was a cocky, victory cheer that made Arthur's blood run cold. It turned to ice when Lolloc pulled out a vile and drowned its contents.

"What do you think?" Lolloc asked minutes later in a voice that was not his own. "Do you think I can pull off my brilliant plan now?"

Standing in front of Arthur and Merlin was…Arthur.

"H-How is that possible?" Arthur, the real Arthur, demanded.

Lolloc laughed again. "Do I really have to answer that?" he asked in amusement. After a pregnant pause, he said, "Magic."

"Bloody hell," Arthur muttered. He shut his eyes, needing to clear the overwhelming feeling of exasperation from his mind.

"And now I just need to get rid of you two," Lolloc said gleefully. He clapped his hands together, which looked utterly _ridiculous _since he had Arthur's image.

"Many have tried to kill us," Merlin warned. He was breathing heavily now, and small tremors rattled his frame. "They've all failed."

Waving his, which currently looked like Arthur's, hand dismissively, Lolloc rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know that. Which is why I'm not going to kill you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Then what would be stopping us from going to Camelot and revealing you for the imposter you are?"

Lolloc grinned. "Because you won't be here."

"But," Merlin looked confused. "You said you won't kill us."

Merlin involuntarily took in a quiet, sharp gasp when Lolloc's Arthur-eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, Emrys." Lolloc's Arthur-voice hit Merlin's ears like a hissed whispered would – caressing and soft, but with rough patches that left flesh torn and bloody. "You'll be going home. It's a bit difficult to come to Camelot's aid if you're home."

Arthur felt Merlin stiffen. Glancing down, Arthur saw Merlin's glazed eyes filled with terror.

"_Merlin's _home is Ealdor," Arthur said hesitantly. "And it's only a few days from Camelot." He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It had something to do with Lolloc calling Merlin "Emrys," Arthur figured as much…but that could be discussed later.

The look Lolloc gave Arthur, using his own damned face, was pity. It was _pity_. Now, Arthur was infuriated as well as perplexed.

"Look out!" Merlin shouted, somehow managing to push Arthur away, just as a beam of magic was thrown at them. When Merlin fell to the ground, he cried out in agony.

"Merlin!" Arthur turned to Lolloc, fire in his eyes. "You'll pay for that," he promised gravely, getting to his feet. He was only a few meters away from the sorcerer now.

Lolloc gulped, stumbling backwards. "Y-You know, maybe I will kill you instead," he said nervously.

Arthur fumed. Not only has Lolloc ruined his day and injured Merlin, but he'd taken Arthur's face and allowed a look of _fear _to cross the prince's features. That was completely unacceptable. With a yell, Arthur charged Lolloc, his sword gripped firmly in front of him.

Which, in hindsight, Arthur realized was a fool plan, considering Lolloc was a, well, _sorcerer _and all.

Quickly, Lolloc raised his palm and whispered a word too low and frantic to be understood. Red light bubbled in Lolloc's palm, and Arthur had just enough time to think, _'Oh shite!' _when the unthinkable happened.

Merlin's shout of "NO!"was barely heard by Arthur's ears – he was too busy trying to discern if his eyes had seen the right thing. The magic, the red, bubbling light that had been shooting towards Arthur, was violently thrown against one of the stone walls. The wall quavered and the top portion of it cracked off. (Thankfully, it fell backwards, away from the too-stunned-to-move Crown Prince.)

Slowly, both Arthurs, the real one and the imposter, turned towards the only other person in the maze. Merlin was on the ground, putting his weight on an elbow; he clutched his wound with one hand as blood seeped through his fingers while the other hand… The other hand was stretched out, fingers splayed. Swirling, golden light dissolved back into dulled, blue eyes.

Arthur dropped his sword.

As if the golden light had given him energy, once Merlin's eyes returned to their normal, albeit more glazed, blue, he collapsed into the ground with a sharp cry. After several second of deep breathing, Merlin opened his eyes and looked up to Arthur. He swallowed, fear evident in his entire being. Tension polluted the atmosphere. It was so thick that the only thing that could cut it would be –

"Oh."

Arthur and Merlin's heads whipped to Lolloc.

"My."

Arthur and Merlin squinted in identical expressions of confused exasperation.

"Gods! This is it!" Lolloc squealed, clapping his (Arthur's) hands. "Emrys is revealing himself! And _I'm witnessing it_! Oh, this is the best day of my life!"

"What," Arthur gritted, "In the hell. Are you going off about?" Without waiting for an answer from Lolloc, Arthur turned to Merlin. "What in the hell is he going off about?!"

"A-Arthur, please. I ca-an explain!" Merlin implored.

"No time!" Lolloc singsonged. (Arthur promised himself he would never say anything in such a way ever again.) "_Edwendu_!"

Suddenly, Arthur was standing where he had been only a few minutes prior. Merlin was even back in his arms. Except now, Merlin was much heavy than before – the majority of his weight was leaning against Arthur.

"Goodbye, princeling! Goodbye, Emrys!" Lolloc called, waving is hand up and down, which only made Arthur look even more ridiculous. "_Edhwierft cýþþ_!"

This time, the light that emerged from Lolloc's (Arthur's) palms was green, the color of fresh grass, and nothing stopped the light from hitting its targets.


	2. Chapter 2

**According to the Great and Powerful Wikipedia, the words "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" weren't coined until around the 20****th**** century – this is important to know!**

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><p>Green light clouded Arthur's vision. As it slowly dispersed, other senses began picking up anomalies. Like the gods-awful smell. It was akin to rotten fruit and…something Arthur's never encountered before. Something strangely…metal-like. The air was different as well; it was too putrid on his tongue. Where were the trees? However, the sounds were what confused Arthur the most. Something… honked? He heard people gasping and the sound of feet.<p>

"Arthur," Merlin murmured.

The green light cleared and Arthur saw Merlin –no, no, the _sorcerer_; Merlin was a sorcerer, he was a _traitor_– hanging onto him feebly. Then Arthur realized that he was actually still holding Merlin up. And they were sitting. When had Arthur sat? When had Arthur pulled Mer—the sorcerer into his lap like a child?

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, tears streaking down his cheeks. He was burning up. Arthur could feel blood still spilling around the arrow. Merlin's trembling hand went to Arthur's temple; Arthur did nothing to stop him. Blue flashed gold. As Merlin's eyes rolled into the back of his head, he chocked out, "I'm so sorry."

The strange gibberish that Arthur had heard in the background suddenly became clear. It was words. Voices.

"–999! Somebody call a 999! Quick!"

"–phone?! Who has a phone!?"

"–called them!"

A person knelt down beside Arthur.

"It's okay, honey," a female voice said soothingly. "I'm a nurse. The medics will be here soon. Your boyfriend will be fine."

"My…?" Feeling dazed, Arthur looked up to ask the woman what she meant by _boyfriend_ because he had never heard that term before (nor had he ever heard of someone being a _nurse_), but what Arthur saw was most certainly _not _a woman.

"By the gods!" he shouted, pulling away, unconsciously taking Merlin with him, to get away from the…the…the cat. She was a cat. A…_cat_.

The cat creature glared at him, "Sir, I'm trying to help your boyfriend; please, do not slight me." Then the cat creature gently pulled Merlin away from Arthur's clutching fingers and laid him on the ground.

"Oh, dear," she said, mostly to herself. Itself. Something. "So much blood loss. And this infection… I've never seen it before."

"And you've seen many infections, have you?" Arthur asked, clutching his trousers in an attempt to conceal his shaking hands. He didn't have his sword or his dagger… All Arthur had was his amour, but that wasn't going to stop claws from tearing his face off.

The cat creature looked up at him, a sad, humorless expression on its face. "Yes, actually. Unfortunately."

"They're here!" someone shouted.

People dressed in all white pushed their way through the crowd. Wait, crowd? Arthur looked around at the aggregate that had formed. There were human-looking people dressed in ridiculous clothing and then there were…not human-looking people. Arthur gulped.

"Name: Merlin Balinor Emrys–" At the sound of Merlin's name, Arthur snapped his attention back to the ordeal before him. Some, thankfully human-looking, young man had Merlin's index finger pressed against some small box-thing, and was reading off of it. "–occupation: Time Agent, years of age: twenty – er, no twenty-four, blood type: O negative," the young man in white said. He turned to Arthur, "This your boyfriend?"

"Uh," Arthur blinked. "Your hair is green. And there's…_things _on your nose."

The young man glared at Arthur. "_Sir_," he said forcefully. "Is this your boyfriend?"

_What the bloody hell is a 'boyfriend'? _Arthur thought, certain the meaning was something other than a friend who was male. "Yes?" he answered gingerly.

"Then we have some questions for you. Follow us."

Arthur stood when the man did, realizing then that Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Fear squeezed Arthur's heart. Merlin might be a sorcerer and a traitor, but at least he was _familiar_.

"Where is–" Arthur stopped short as he saw a raven haired man being lifted into another box thing. A much bigger box thing. It looked similar to a carriage except for a few alternations. One of them being that it _hovered over the ground_.

"Hurry up," the green-haired young man said over his shoulder, walking through the part the crowd had made.

Arthur was not keen to follow the young man into that box, but he was even less keen to being in this strange, mad world alone without some sort of sense to ground him – even if that sense was only marginal at best. Merlin? A sorcerer? It was impossible! And yet…Arthur had seen it with his own eyes.

He sat down in the chair the young man directed him to, wondering if he was dreaming.

The box thing lurched forward, causing Arthur to grip the chair. Wherever they were heading to, Arthur hoped it would hold some familiarity of any sort. (And he hoped it could help heal Merlin, but Arthur was hesitant to acknowledge that aloud because… Because _sorcerer_. Years of being taught something was wrong and evil doesn't go away just because your friend is dying… Right?)

Loud beeping diverted Arthur's attention from his conflicting emotions.

The box was much roomier than the outside suggested. Merlin was on a bed in the middle of the box with tube-things sticking out of his arms. Something was covering part of his face. His grey, sweaty face.

Oh gods. Arthur was going to be sick. Merlin didn't look good. He was a sorcerer and he was dying and _dammit _Arthur just wanted Merlin to be safe and healthy and _alive_!

"We're losing him!" one of the white-clothed people exclaimed.

"Dammit! Klog, what the fuck kind of infection is this?" someone else shouted.

A red thing was clicking away on a smaller, more complicated-looking box. It was using tentacles. Arthur fought down the urge to vomit again; he had to look away from the…the thing.

"I'm trying!" it (he?) said. "But whatever-the-fuck it is, it's _old_!"

The beeping stopped, transforming to one long _eeeep _sound.

"Shit, shit, shit! We're losing him!"

The words hit Arthur like a punch in the gut, and he watched the chaos unfold with a near blind eye.

"We're almost to the hospital! Just hold on, Emrys!"

This world was bewildering and strange and somewhat frightening, but Arthur knew what those words meant.

"Klog!"

He's heard them before, in all sorts of variations: she's gone; he didn't make it; they're lost to us now.

"One more second…!"

Dead.

"KLOG! The antidote! NOW!"

That's what it meant.

"Fuck, I found it! I found it!"

Merlin was dead.

"Inject him already then!"

"God! Done, done! I did it!"

Except…wait, no. No, he wasn't. He wasn't! Merlin was still alive!

Merlin gasped, his eyes flying open as the red thing injected a pale orange liquid into one of the tube-things. His eyes closed almost immediately once the liquid had disappeared from the tube.

"The poison's been neutralized," the green-haired young man said, sounding relieved. "Not contagious either, but he's still got an arrow embedded in him."

"Gotcha," a different voice answered.

They were taking Merlin out of the box carriage thing! Arthur stood up quickly, hitting his head on the ceiling of the strange contraption, but he paid the dull ache no heed. He needed to go with them! He needed to be with Merlin!

Arthur scrambled out of the box, and into an entirely different environment. It appeared to be some building. A castle? The smell was even different from the first one – it was cleaner, but…a fake clean? The odor was sharp and hurt Arthur's nose.

People dressed in blue clothing joined the people in white. Everyone was shouting. They carted Merlin through strange looking doors that swung like a tavern's did. Arthur went to follow them.

"Not you," a surly woman said, appearing in front of Arthur and putting a hand on his chest. She looked human enough. Tall, straight ebony hair and dark brown eyes; no tentacles, no weird skin color, no fur… Her lips were unusually red though. "We've got questions for you."

"But…Merlin," Arthur protested, looking towards the doors that Merlin had been pushed through mere minutes prior.

The woman sighed. With her finger, she beckoned two men forward, who grabbed Arthur by his arms and dragged him after the woman, who was walking in spiked shoes that looked very uncomfortable and _click-clacked _with every step. Arthur had a bad feeling about this.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur sat in the uncomfortable chair, wishing he could just leave this gods awful room.

"What happened to your boyfriend?"

This was the tenth time the woman –Dr. Lacy Quinn– asked Arthur the question.

"I told you," Arthur began, but was cut off. Again.

"That you're not from this world," Dr. Quinn finished with annoyance. "Yeah, you and half the population. Now let's do this one more time." She leaned down, putting the weight of her arms on the table in front of Arthur, "What. Happened. To your boyfriend?"

Arthur frowned, but didn't say anything else. He already told her everything; he was Prince Arthur of Camelot, he and his manservant Merlin were sent to this place by a sorcerer named Lolloc, and all Arthur wanted was Merlin better and the both of them to go back home.

When it was clear Arthur wouldn't speak again, Dr. Quinn huffed out her frustration.

"Listen, _Arthur_," she said his name like she didn't believe it was genuine, "Your boyfriend got out of surgery just a few minutes ago. Tell the truth and you can see him." She leaned forward, her hair casting a shadow on her face, which only made her seem more threatening. "But lie to me again and I'll throw you in jail where you will never see your boyfriend ever again."

"I told you the truth," Arthur said, begging her to understand. _Jail _didn't sound like a good thing. It sounded far too similar to _dungeons_. "Please believe me!"

Dr. Quinn threw her hands up in the air, her face showing exhaustion.

"_You're tired?_"Arthur wanted to shout at her. "_I've been in here for what must been _hours _with no food, no drink, and no idea what the hell is going on! Did you see your best friend betray you? Did he then go and _die _on you in this strange, mad world? No! You don't have a right to be tired!_"

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Quinn proposed tensely, "Let's start with something else, shall we? Why are your prints no in A.D.S.T.G.?"

Arthur looked at her with what he's sure is the most confused and pathetic visage to ever grace his face, let alone mankind. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stop!" A man barged into the room, flashing some sort of paper. "John Smith, lawyer. You need to stop harassing my client and let him go immediately."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Quinn looked positively flabbergasted. Arthur enjoyed that look.

"You heard me. John Smith, lawyer," he pointed at himself, then turned his finger towards Arthur. "Arthur Pendragon, client."

Arthur's smile slipped; he felt his caution rise up like a wall. How did this man know his name?

Dr. Quinn raised one of her strangely precise (and thin) eyebrows. "Oh? Then tell me, _John Smith_, why is this man not in A.D.S.T.G.?"

"Hmm?"

"A.D.S.T.G.," Dr. Quinn smirked. "Alien DNA Sequences Throughout the Galaxy."

Arthur looked at the man, his savior, with big eyes.

"Oh! A.D.S.T.G. Yes, yes. Alien DNA…" the strange man waved his hands exaggeratedly. "That thing. Well, the answer's simple really." He paused, looking around the room with excitement. Bringing up his hands, again, to do this strange gesticulation that had him spreading out both arms entirely, he said, "Witness protection."

"Witness protection?" From the way Dr. Quinn's eyebrows furled hesitantly, Arthur felt hope well up within him. Maybe he could get out of here after all!

John Smith nodded. He put his hands up to his chest, holding the strange strips of cloth (that could apparently stretch) in both hands and looking quite smug. He crossed his feet, which was a strange thing to do, especially when standing up, but Arthur wasn't going to say anything.

"Okay then. What about his clothing? Why is your client wearing armor?" Dr. Quinn crossed her arms, her eyes daring John Smith to falter.

"Oh that one's even easier. Cosplay." More hand gestures were involved.

Again, Dr. Quinn repeated John Smith's explanation with a combination of distain and uncertainty: "Cosplay?"

"Oh, most definitely. Now, seeing as I answered your questions, I'm going to take my client up to see his friend–"

"Boyfriend," Dr. Quinn interrupted.

John Smith cocked his head. "Boyfriend?" He looked at Arthur, saying, mostly to himself, "Hmm, so Merlin's a western door, eh? Well, good for him!"

Realizing that both Dr. Quinn and Arthur were staring at him, John Smith, gave a fleeting smile, grabbed Arthur by the arm, and said, "Cheerio! Call me if you need me."

They walked down the corridor briskly.

"Th-Thank you," Arthur said sincerely, allowing his "lawyer" (whatever that is) to steer him towards the stairs.

John Smith grinned. "Oh, it was nothing. I owe Merlin a few favors anyway."

"Wait," Arthur dug his heels in, forcing them both to stop. "You know Merlin? How?"

"That's a question you should ask him," John Smith told Arthur, not unkindly.

Arthur shook his head. "He… He _lied _to me. He betrayed me."

"Then why are you still here?" There was something in John Smith's tone that told Arthur he knew exactly why Arthur was still here.

"Because… Because I don't know the world out there!" Arthur pointed at one of the walls. "I don't know what's going on at all!"

John Smith tutted. "Oh, Arthur don't sell yourself short. You know where we are."

Arthur blinked. "W-What? No I don't!"

The look Arthur received wasn't disappointing like his father's, or slightly annoyed like Merlin's, but…somewhere in between.

"Merlin's home," Arthur whispered, his eyes downcast. "That's what Lolloc said. He'd take us to Merlin's home. And once there, we wouldn't be able to stop him." Hesitantly, Arthur looked up, "We're in the future, aren't we?"

John Smith nodded as if it weren't a big deal. "And I'm sure there more to it than that, isn't there?" John Smith prompted, smiling patiently.

_More than not wanting to be stuck in the future by myself?_ Arthur wanted to ask bitingly.

He wanted to ask…to hide the fact that it was true. There was more to it, yet how this man knew, Arthur had no idea.

"And…" Arthur swallowed nervously, trying to articulate the words to this complete stranger. "And I want…" He couldn't say it. Arthur, the Prince of Camelot and Slayer of the Great Dragon and a thousand other useless titles, couldn't say a few simple words.

"And you want to make sure Merlin was okay," John Smith finished for him kindly. "You want him to live."

Hearing the words, regardless of them being in a stranger's mouth, Arthur's throat suddenly felt very dry. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"Tell you what," John Smith proposed. "I'll escort you up there, to Merlin's room, and, so long as you promise to tell him exactly why you chose to stay, that you wanted to make sure he would be okay," he reminded, as if Arthur has already forgotten, "I'll fix that little blip about the A.D.S.T.G. How's that sound?"

"I…" Arthur bit his lip. "I still have no idea what that means. Or how you even know who I am. Or how you know Merlin."

"Oh, don't worry yourself with it." John Smith waved his hands about some more. He became serious. "Do you promise?"

Arthur's throat was still painfully dry; he licked his lips.

"…Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

**I would like to apologize. It has been crazy; I've been sick, there's been snow, I've been back-stabbed... I'll just leave this here for your enjoyment. Please review :)**

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><p>Merlin looked so pale. With the color gone from his face, the manservant-slash-sorcerer seemed to be a sleeping child on his deathbed. The thought did nothing to comfort Arthur. Gently, he brushed Merlin's plastered hair away from his eyes. His fingers didn't feel the heat of a fever. At least there was that.<p>

"Please wake up," Arthur whispered.

It had been nearly an hour since John Smith had gotten Arthur out of that gods-awful interrogation and finally into the room where Merlin was.

"Um, who are you?"

Arthur looked up, startled. Standing in the doorway was the strangest woman he'd ever see: long, unruly ebony hair; fierce, blue eyes; tall, thin frame; creamy, unblemished skin; and ears that were just big enough to peek out from her hair. The woman was oddly beautiful, in an ethereal, confusing way.

Not to mention, she looked so much like Merlin that Arthur could only stare, mouth agape.

The woman cleared her throat. "I said, who are you? And why are you wearing that ridiculous outfit?"

Arthur wrinkled his brow, rousing from his stupor. He stood up. "_Ridiculous_? Says the woman wearing…wearing… What on earth are _you_ wearing?"

"I just so happened to come from a dance class, you prat," the woman said, putting her hands on her hips. Her tone was so much like Merlin's Arthur gapped again. "See? Legwarmers, tights, ballet skirt, leotard."

Arthur did see. He saw too much. She really needed to cover up her bosom.

"Now I won't ask again, who are you?"

"I, uh… Who are _you_?" Arthur had never felt this flustered before in his entire life. He hated it.

The woman crossed her arms. "Okay, I'll play this game." Walking up to Arthur, she stuck her hand out and said, "Pygmy Emrys; prima ballerina and Merlin, that bloke's," she nodded toward the unconscious form, "Twin sister. I'd say pleasure to make your acquaintance, but it hasn't been yet."

Twin sister? Just how many secrets did Merlin have?

"Arthur Pendragon," Arthur took her hand and shook it firmly. "Crown, uh, Crown Prince of Camelot and," he faltered under Pygmy's calculating stare. "And, I'm a, um, I'm Merlin's…

Pygmy raised her eyebrows, dipping and tilting her head impatiently. It was as if she were saying, "Spit it out already."

"…Boyfriend?" Arthur finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck.

Pygmy squinted, looking bewildered. "You don't sound sure," she said slowly, her voice softening as she looked Arthur up and down.

"I…" Arthur flushed. "I don't really know what it means. I'm assuming it doesn't mean 'friend who's male', right?"

A mischievous glint formed in Pygmy's eyes, one Arthur had often found in Morgana's eyes when they were young children and she knew something he didn't.

"Oh, no," she all but cooed. "That's exactly what it means." Her eyes flicked up and down his frame. "You're strange, Arthur Pendragon, but I like you. Coffee?"

"Um, sure?" Arthur had absolutely no idea regarding what just happened. But there was no way in hell he was going to question it. He cautiously took the container in Pygmy's hand, sipping the black liquid slowly. It was much better with the sugar and cream Pygmy brought as well.

"So tell me, when is my brother due to wake up?" she asked, stirring the contents of her coffee together. Arthur mimicked her motions and found the coffee to be even more delightful.

"The men in white clothes–"

With a raised eyebrow, Pygmy interrupted, "You man the paramedics?"

"Er, yes." Arthur repeated the word in his mind, trying to remember it. "The…paramedics," he glanced quickly at Pygmy to make sure he pronounced it right before slowly trudging on, "…said that Merlin was in a, um, medically induced coma that 'should last a few days because both the blood loss and the poison made his body very weak.'"

"Blood loss and poison?" Pygmy repeated. "What the hell were you two doing?"

Hesitantly, Arthur informed, "We… We were running from a, uh…a sorcerer, who shot Merlin with a poisoned arrow, trapped us in a stone maze, and then proceeded to send us…here." Arthur glanced around at the white walls, finding neither solace nor danger in them.

"You were running from a…?" Pygmy gasped and jumped to her feet. "Oh my God! Oh my _God_!"

Arthur stared at her with wide eyes, trying to inch away from her sudden and exuberant exclamation.

"You're… You're Arthur! _The _Arthur! Aren't you?"

"I… What?"

"Oh my God! Merlin always said you were real. Whole reason he wanted to be a Time Agent, you know?"

"Um, no, I don't know…?"

Pygmy ignored him. "He's been gone for a year! A whole year with you!" She turned to face him, a smile so big and bright and _Merlin_.

Arthur swallowed uncomfortably. "He's…been with me a lot longer than that."

"Oh?" Pygmy scowled. "And he didn't send me any letters. How rude." Then she grinned and Arthur found himself thinking that Merlin was nowhere near as strange as this woman. "Let's wake him up a little early, shall we?"

"Uh, h-how do you propose to do that?" Arthur asked, watching as Pygmy closed the open door.

Somehow, Pygmy's grin widened. "Magic, of course!"

"Ma… You have it too?"

A small golden orb formed in the palm of her hands; it reminded Arthur of the blue one that guided him out of the cave safely all those years ago. Which was technically many more years ago now, wasn't it? And, oh gods, that blue orb was Merlin's creation, wasn't it? Arthur was starting to have a headache.

"Merlin didn't tell you?" Slowly, Pygmy pressed the palm of her hand to Merlin's chest, where his heart lay. Merlin made no show of the orb affecting him, but when Pygmy removed her hands, there wasn't a trace of the golden orb. "Our father, Balinor, was a Dragonlord. There's no dragons left on earth for us to bond with, but we still get the magic part of it."

"D-Dragonlord?" Arthur exclaimed softly. Even _more_ secretes! Wait… "Balinor? No, that's… No, he was with us… Back in the…"

Pygmy looked thoughtful while Arthur struggled with his words.

"Well, he was a Time Agent too. He told us he'd start in the past, searching for his home planet, Kaida. I guess he must've gotten stuck."

Arthur blinked. "Kaida?" he asked.

"Yep! Kaida, planet of the dragons!" Pygmy laughed. "Merlin and I are half human, half ancient alien spices that can do magic. Can you believe that? Well, it's not really magic, you know." Pygmy continued talking as if Arthur's world wasn't being contortioned into one big, deafening question, "It's technically science. Our brains are just wired differently than a normal human's brain, so we can do all sorts of cool tricks."

The bright smile melted once Pygmy saw Arthur's face. "Arthur? Are you alright?"

"No," Arthur breathed. He sat back down, nearly missing the chair. "I… I really don't… No."

Understanding dawned on Pygmy's face. "Oh," she said in horror. "Merlin never… He never told you any of this, did he?"

Arthur shook his head slightly. It felt both incredibly heavy and incredibly light; a paradox he never figured could exists in the same sensation. Arthur was almost certain than just one more piece of information and Arthur's head would simply explode.

For once, Pygmy was silent.

"Merlin… He should wake up in a few hours' time," she said quietly after a few moments. "He won't be in a state for explaining, but it'll be a start." When Arthur nodded, she continued, "You know, I bet that armor is getting a little uncomfortable. Why don't I buy you some proper, forty-third century clothes, okay?"

Numbly, Arthur nodded his head. "Okay."

x~X~x

"This place is massive!" Arthur exclaimed in shock. He turned to Pygmy incredulously. "And there's dozens of these?"

"Millions," Pygmy corrected with a grin.

Arthur's eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at the building again. Getting here had been mind boggling – no horses, only the strange, hovering box carriage things. (_"Cars, Arthur."_) And according to Pygmy, there were even faster transportations called trains, airplanes, and space ships. (_"I'd like to go on one." "In due time, Arthur."_)

Walking into the shopping mall, Arthur's jaw dropped. Rows upon rows upon rows of clothing! How was he supposed to pick?

"We've got five hours," Pygmy informed him. "Let's get started."

"Where do we start?" Arthur asked, slightly dazed.

Pygmy laughed. "Probably in the men's section."

Arthur nodded distractedly, his wide eyes still trying to take everything in. "Sounds good."

Pygmy laughed again, grabbed Arthur's hand, and ran the rest of the way into the store. (Thank gods they left Arthur's chainmail in the hospital room; although the "scrubs" were much too thin for Arthur's tastes.)

"First stop, underwear," Pygmy announced, spreading her arms.

"Oh," Arthur blushed deeply. It wasn't too difficult to understand what garments these were supposed to be, especially since there were _pictures_. "I…"

"Aww! Look at the blushing beauty," Pygmy teased, nudging Arthur's shoulder with her own.

"I am no blushing beauty!" Arthur protested indigently, which would've worked had his entire face not been as red as Dr. Quinn's lips.

Pygmy patted Arthur's shoulder. "It's okay, I've shopped with my brother for underwear loads of times."

"That seems highly personal," Arthur commented glancing awkwardly at the rows of underwear.

"It's no big deal, really," Pygmy shrugged. "Okay, so boxers or briefs or both?"

Arthur stared blankly. "I'm getting tired of saying this, but I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh, right." Pygmy regarded him carefully.

Arthur was about to ask if everything was okay when her eyes moved down. She was staring at his… Right at his… Arthur resisted the strong temptation to cover himself.

"Definitely boxer briefs," she said, winking – which meant something, Arthur's sure, he just has no idea what.

Arthur left the underwear section with a red face, a bag of black socks, a bag of plain boxer-briefs, and a black pair of boxer-briefs with pictures of blue pointy hats and golden stars. They made no sense to Arthur, but Pygmy found it highly entertaining.

To make matters even more embarrassing, Arthur realized he'd never be able to pay Pygmy back.

"Seriously, it's no big deal," she said, which only made Arthur more distressed.

He was the Crown Prince! Letting others buy him basic necessities made Arthur feel as though he was using them. And since he couldn't even hope to pay Pygmy back… When Pygmy informed Arthur that she wasn't doing this because he was a prince, but because he was Merlin's friend, it made him feel marginally better.

At least the rest of the trip wasn't quite so awkward.

Arthur got a pair of khaki shorts and three "jeans" – black, dark blue, and dark blue with rips in it, which Arthur refused to even try on at first because they were "tattered" and only peasants wear ripped clothing. Pygmy had smacked his head at that and told him if he didn't try them on right this second, she would magic them on right then and there. (Arthur couldn't help thinking Merlin would be proud of his sister.)

Next, Arthur got shirts, which were much easier to pick out. Four were plain colors (red, blue, black, and dark green), one was a red "collared" shirt, and the final one was a white shirt with a red and orange flaming dragon at the shoulder. He really liked that one.

Shoes were the quickest to buy. Pygmy bought Arthur a pair of black/white/red "Nike" sneakers.

"You hungry?" she asked when the shoes were paid for.

"Starving," Arthur answered, placing a hand on his stomach.

Pygmy nodded. "Perfect. Let's go to the food court."

As they walked, Arthur gathered the courage to ask, "Pygmy? Why is your name, well, Pygmy?"

Laughing, the girl shook her head. "I was wondering when you'll ask that. My mother loves birds of prey, she's completely barmy about them. We have a younger brother named Bateleur. He's three years young than us," Pygmy paused. "Me. Three years younger than me. He's seventeen."

"Does he look like you two?"

"No," Pygmy shook her head. "He looks more like our mum. He's still tall, mind you, our mother towers practically everyone, but he's a bit chubbier, though he'll argue more muscular," Pygmy rolled her eyes. "His eyes are brown and his hair is much more manageable."

"Lucky him," Arthur laughed, remembering a particularly amusing camping trip in which Merlin's hair spiked into a thousand different directions upon waking.

"Yeah, he's always rubbing it in our faces, the little wanker," Pygmy said grinning. "What are you in the mood for?"

Arthur looked around. The smell wasn't unpleasant, unlike his first two experiences with the future, but there were too many lights and too many signs that Arthur just shook his head. "No idea," he answered honestly. "You choose."

Pygmy hummed. "Okay, let's have Chinese. It's funny, most Brits love Thai, but me, can't stand it. Don't know why, since it's Chinese and Thai are really similar, but I just can't stand Thai."

"…Okay," Arthur said slowly, not understanding a word she said. Pygmy simply laughed again.

When they were sitting down, food in hand, Pygmy noticed Arthur's darting eyes.

"It's the aliens, isn't it?" she asked lowly.

Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"They won't hurt you, I promise."

To Arthur, that didn't mean much. "I was taught that different was bad," Arthur explained quietly. "And it's weird having to adjust, knowing that I'll just be leaving again once Merlin's feeling better."

"It's a whole new world," Pygmy said. "Don't try to understand it all in one day."

Nodding again, Arthur began digging into his food. He had two Spring Rolls and some Chicken Low Mein. It was different, but quite delicious. Just before Arthur could ask Pygmy what she had, because it looked good too, someone else joined their company.

"Oh my God! Pygmy!" A blue-skinned girl threw herself onto Pygmy, nearly knocking them off the chair. "It's been so long! How've you been?"

Struggling to retain her balance, Pygmy began, "Oh, I'm pretty g–"

She was cut off when the blue-skinned girl pulled her into a kiss. Try as he might, Arthur couldn't stop himself from gaping.

"Nirina!" Pygmy gasped, pushing the girl away. She whipped at her mouth. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? We broke up!"

"Yes, but I was hoping we could rebound again," Nirina (seriously, where are these ridiculous names coming from?) pouted. Then she noticed Arthur, her flighty demeanor morphing into one more serious and edgy. "Oh. Are you… With him?"

Pygmy crossed her arms and frowned. "If I said yes would you still try to kiss me?"

Nirnia rolled her eyes, smiling widely at Pygmy. "Of course I'll still kiss you, dear!" She started leaning in again.

Putting her hand up, Pygmy sighed, clearly disgusted. "Nirina, we broke up for a reason. That rebound was a one-time thing, and it's not going to happen ever again."

Nirina glared at Arthur, humphed, and turned on her heel.

"Sorry about that," Pygmy said sheepishly once the girl melted into the crowd.

"Oh, it's… Fine." Arthur stammered.

With a tilt of her head, Pygmy realized, "You… You don't know much about sexuality, do you?"

Arthur blustered his way through an attempted answer, giving up quickly. His silence was answer enough.

"Well then," cracking her knuckled, Pygmy continued, her eyes glittering with something intense and passionate, and it terrified Arthur slightly, "Get ready for a hell of a lot of information as I introduce to you the wonderful world of pansexuals, bisexuals, heterosexuals, homosexuals, and the ever loving asexuals."

Arthur blinked. "Um, what?"

Grinning widely, she said, "Looks like I got my work cut out for me!"


End file.
